Villager's Friendship Problem
by Bluesy Goon
Summary: Possibly a one-shot dialogue/character practice. After Isabelle comes to the Smash Mansion and makes friends like there's no problem, Villager gets extremely upset. If I'm still into it, I might add on extra characters and scenes, but for now, I'll keep it on the "complete" status.
1. Chapter 1

Isabelle's talking with friends and stuff.

Villager walks in and the room goes quiet.

Then Villager grabs her by the wrist and angrily walks her into the cafeteria. It's mostly empty, with five or six Smashers that Isabelle didn't catch the name of, yet.

Villager pulls out a seat for Isabelle - Isabelle always loved how needlessly polite he was, even when he was angry - and marches over to the other side of the two-seater square table, plopping into the other cushioned seat.

"It's not fair!"

Isabelle, now in her seat, pauses. "Pardon, Mayor?"

Villager crosses his arms. "What do you have that I don't?"

"...I'm confused," Isabelle says as she scoots into the table.

"Of course. Nice guys finish last-"

"Explain, Mayor!"

"WHY do they like you more than they like me?"

Isabelle stares, taken aback. "I-I, it's not a _contest,_ Mayor," she says with a nervous chuckle.

Villager starts pacing. "I know, I know. It's just... They never want to talk to me. NO one does!" He throws his arms into the air.

Isabelle takes notice of the turning heads in the room and makes an effort to quiet Villager down. "Um," she says calmly, "why would you think that?"

Villager puts up a finger and takes out a small phone. He types slowly with a single finger. The silence grows just long enough for Isabelle to grow bored and uncomfortable.

"Look!" Villager raises his phone. Isabelle squints from where she sits, despite her short distance away. The screen was blindingly bright.

As soon as she processes the image, Isabelle lets out the loudest, quirkiest laugh. It's the weirdest mixture of a snort, a howl, and a repeated hiccup. She used to try and hide the laugh, but ever since Villager - someone who took everything way to seriously - told her it made _him_ want to laugh with her, her insecurity vanished.

The picture is an image of her own mayor, breaking down a door with an axe. The humor lies in his eager expression.

Isabelle sees Villager holding back a blushing smile. He always used to say that he smiled under pressure, no matter how he felt. Isabelle still teased him about it.

"Stop laughing!" Villager shouts. Heads turn, but Isabelle is too busy laughing to care.

"But it's so foolish!"

"Exactly!" Villager brings the phone up close to his face. The light of the screen turns his face a bright blue. "And demeaning, and _not funny._ "

Isabelle fixes her skirt and forces two coughs. "Sorry, sorry, mayor. This is serious. Of course." Another snort escapes.

Villager glares, then sighs. "It's just... I'd be fine with it if people didn't take it so seriously."

"I doubt anyone would take _that_ seriously, Mayor."

"Don't look at me like I'm stupid. You saw Peach and Mario and all of them out there. They're _scared_ of me."


	2. To Get With Isabelle

Villager is sitting alone and stuff. Since the conversation, he started seeing a change in some attitudes towards him.

It all started with Fox Mccloud, the gayest lady-killer in the multiverse. Or at least that's what he understood from eavesdropping around the mansion all the time. It was about three days ago:

The cafeteria is silent, as it always is when a meal isn't being served. One Smasher is in there at the moment; it's Villager. He enjoys the quiet; it feels less lonely than when he's in a crowd. Most Smashers spend their time in the lounge, outside, or in Smash Playroom.

"What's up, Smiley?" Another voice - foreign and rich in dynamic - pierces the pleasant silence.

One tactic that Villager has adopted since his invitation to Smash Mansion was intimidation. Showing internal response to sudden stimuli shows vulnerability, and Villager does everything in his power to reduce the chances of being looked down upon.

Therefore, Villager remains still as a tree as a firm hand claps against his back. A sharp sting remains.

He _slowly_ turns in his seat - again, remain calm in moments of surprise - to face a wrinkled shirt fitted tightly against twitching pecs. He looks up, and Mr. Mccloud is beaming. He notices a few beads of sweat, but he assumes it's from practice or something. Villager has never felt any interest towards Mr. Mccloud, but the display of kindness and attention, especially from someone as busy and popular as he, isn't taken for granted.

A beat passes.

Villager makes sure to match Mr. Mccloud's smile. "Hey, Mr. Mccloud-"

"HOLY SHIT." Mr. Mccloud slams the table and stumbles back.

Again, _calm. Intimidation... Tournament..._

Villager stares with the slightest head tilt and a maintained smile as Mr. Mccloud regains his balance, a short distance away.

The canine breathes in and out, loud enough for Villager to hear. Villager counts up to five; the time it takes for Fox to stop breathing so heavily.

"You- You fucking _talk."_

Mr. Mccloud does not face Villager as he speaks.

Villager continues to stare.

 _He's asking me if I talk. He's asking me if I talk. HE DIDN'T KNOW I TALKED?_

That's beyond messed up. Villager wants to turn and mind his own business again, but talking to Mr. Mccloud may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. He swallows his emotions and says: "Yeah, I talk."

"I was _not_ expecting you to sound like... _that_."

Villager narrows his eyes but maintains a smile. To him, it makes a perfect balance between annoyance and making sure Mr. Mccloud still thought he was friendly. "Sound like what-"

"Shit! Shit. I-I meant it sounded really nice- Yeah. Nicer than I thought. Real deep, real, uh, sexy. ...Are you PG? I'll stop cussing if I need to."

He reaches for his blaster.

 _Gosh darn-it._

Mr. Mccloud is still scared of Villager. What a jerk. Forget this. Villager turns around and resumes swinging his legs from his seat. He drums his hand against the table to block out the sound of Mr. Mccloud's receding footsteps and a closing door.

Minutes pass. Now, Villager is banging a complex rhythm into the wooden table. Instead of thinking up lyrics, he sings in a pseudo language to fill the vocals.

A finger taps on his shoulder mid-song. This time he yelps.

 _Gosh darn-it._

"Hey, my bad." Mr. Mccloud drops into a squat. He meets Villager at slightly below eye level. "I was being stupid. How're you?"

His hand relaxes across Villager's poised back. It's too personal.

"Why are you talking to me?"

Mr. Mccloud not-so-subtly hides his surprise. "Huh?"

"You've never talked to me."

"...I-"

"Almost four years. The next tournament is in a few months."

"I don't-"

"Are you scared of me? Are you just like every other idiot in this mansion taking those stupid me-mes so seriously?"

"It's pronounced meme, and-"

"I don't care what it's called!" Villager never noticed how short his temper could be. Until now, that is. He imagines his red cheeks with steam blasting from his scalp, and decides to calm himself down.

And Fox doesn't jump back. He merely flinches, and waits. He stares at Villager for a second. Then he smiles.

Villager, meanwhile, is steadying his breathing. "What are you smiling at?"

"...You're actually kinda adorable."

 _Dumb, dumb, dumb villager! You lost your intimidation!_

"No I'm not!"

Fox tilted his head to analyze Villager further. "Yep, definitely. Still kinda creepy, though."

 _Gosh darn-it._

* * *

Jusmove: Thanks so much! I've always been so pressured to outline, edit, outline, edit, outline, edit... I decided I would just take a risk and throw this out there. Your feedback shows that it must've worked out.

GaoGod: ...Interesting concept... My mind's running in millions of directions. Stay tuned, but I can't promise anything.

And to all of you who are following my story, sorry for the wait. I'm trying to put less pressure on myself when it comes to stuff like this. Bad mental health kinda sucks, and having you guys stick with me despite my attempts to rest does not go unnoticed. :I :D :I :D


	3. Isabellie

Let me set the scene.

It's the afternoon, the sun is sliced in half by the horizon in that cliche sort of way, with its severed half shimmering in the orange ocean. If you look at it from the giant glass wall in Battle Hallway, the horizon almost looks like it's tilted. How does it work? Some science stuff. Sometimes, you'd even get the slight feeling that the sky was a painting, but that is a more common experience in the multiverse. Nonetheless, it's single-tear worthy.

Battle Hallway is large, not only in width and length, but height. The ceiling lies about seventy feet above the red and golden carpet.

Now imagine that you're a camera, and that you're looking from the perfect spot, facing the large glass wall. You see the horizon sun scene and you begin to tear up. Sound doesn't exist, except for:

"Puuuuuuuup! Bring it in!"

Fox crouches in the middle of the frame and gestures for a hug.

Isabelle runs into the frame and jumps into Fox's open arms. They're silhouettes in front of this sun. Isabelle squeezes Fox. Fox embraces her form. He loves how her tiny legs wrap around to the back of his thighs and kick.

"What's up, Foxie Foxie?" Isabelle asks, tail wagging.

"I still hate that nickname," Fox says. He sees the tragedy settle into Isabelle's eyes. He loves how she obsesses over the stupidest things.

"I thought it was cute... It's just an 'e' on the end."

"Cute? Maybe. But it's cringe." Fox crouches down once again and pecks her on her furry forehead. "It's like me saying 'Isabellie'."

Isabelle folds her tiny arms. "Foxie Foxie is _not_ as bad as 'Isabellie'. And it would be 'Doggie', Mr. Raven."

"Mr. Raven?" Fox chuckles.

Isabelle puts her hands on her hips. "You know what I mean."

"...I seriously don't."

"Ravens are smart. I'm saying that you think you're smart, when you're not." Isabelle huffs. She tilts her nose even higher up than she needs to to look Fox in the face, even as he crouches.

"Wait," Fox says, putting a finger to his chin. Then he laughs. "Isn't that, like, racist?"

"Racist?"

"Like, hating on other animals and whatever."

Isabelle gasps. "I-I don't _hate_ other animals!"

Fox smiles. "Hmm, I don't know. _Mr. Raven_ sounds pretty racist to me..."

"Stop calling me racist!"

Fox just keeps smiling and rests his eyebrows. Seconds pass. He lets Isabelle's eyes dart to the side and her cheeks blush as he gazes.

Those innocent eyes. They made him feel so...

Umphf!

Like a fresh roll of bubble wrap. Yeah, that's how he would describe it.


End file.
